


Together

by RandomnonsenseDA (B1nary_S0lo)



Series: Rora Surana [15]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Dragon Age: Origins Quest - The Urn of Sacred Ashes, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Relationship Problems, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B1nary_S0lo/pseuds/RandomnonsenseDA
Summary: As her relationship with Alistair progresses, Rora contends with the forces that could drive them apart.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Surana (Dragon Age), Alistair/Surana (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age)
Series: Rora Surana [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/470353
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Rora sat in the glow of the campfire, petting Leo the Mabari. Leliana and Zevran swapped stories, while Wynne clicked her tongue and Sten “hmphed” in the corner. Even Morrigan was near, pretending not to listen as she poked at the fire.

Alistair laughed at something Leliana said and lay his hand over Rora’s. Without thinking, she laced her fingers with his and leaned her head on his shoulder. It was only then that they noticed the conversation had paused, and everyone was looking at them.

“Well, well,” Leliana said, eyes gleaming, “Anything you’d care to share with the group, Alistair? Rora?”

Alistair pulled his hand from Rora’s. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“There is no need to be coy,” Zevran said. “It does not take a scholar to see that there is something… special… between you two.”

Alistair looked to Rora, panicked. She only hesitated a moment. She took his hand again, squeezing it tight.

“Fine,” she said. “Alistair and I are together. Happy?”

Morrigan pretended to gag over by the fire. Leliana clapped her hands in delight.

“Oh, I knew it!” she said. “Congratulations, my dears.”

“Welcome to the world of romance, sweet Rora, dear Alistair,” Zevran said. “If you are ever in need of advice in the ways of love, you need only ask.”

“No, thank you very much,” said Alistair.

“We’re fine,” Rora chimed in.

“I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.” Leliana elbowed Sten. “Won’t they?”

Rora didn’t see if the Qunari bothered to react, because her gaze was fixed on Alistair. He met her eyes, smiling back. She was so caught up that she didn’t realize until later that Wynne had gone.

The next evening, Wynne called out to Rora from the door of her tent.

“Why don’t you have a seat, my dear?” she said. “We can talk for a bit.”

Rora glanced over at the far side of camp. She’d agreed to meet Alistair for a walk that night, and didn’t want to keep him waiting. But she supposed she had a little time.

As always, Wynne had made the area outside her tent as homey as possible. She’d summoned up a little wisp to fill the hanging lantern, and it bathed her and Rora in greenish light. On a stump sat a steaming teapot, presumably heated by Wynne’s magic, and a few rough ceramic mugs.

“Would you like some mint tea?” Wynne said. “I made it myself.”

Rora nodded. Wynne poured her a cup and passed it over. Rora enjoyed the warmth on her palms on such a chilly night.

“Where did you get the mint?” Rora said after taking a sip.

“I gathered it myself. It grows all around the Hinterlands. You just need to know where to look.”

Rora smiled at Wynne over her tea.

“Have you traveled a lot outside the Circle, Wynne?”

“Here and there,” she said. “If you manage to stick around as long as I have, opportunities like that arise. You’re lucky you’re getting to travel so young, my dear.”

Rora frowned and put her mug down, memories of blood-stained stones and angry voices filling her mind. She blinked them away. “I don’t feel lucky.”

Wynne’s expression was sympathetic. “I know,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be welcomed back at the Circle after this is over, Rora. Especially after all you’ve done.”

Rora’s stomach squeezed, but she wasn’t sure why. “Thank you, Wynne.”

Wynne was still giving her a kind look, but there was a sadness behind it.

“So,” she said. “You and Alistair have gotten close. I supposed that’s been a long time coming.”

“Oh.” Rora hoped the poor lighting hid her blush. “Was it obvious?”

“I’ve seen the way you two look at each other,” Wynne said. “It’s almost a little too sweet for me, and I’m an old lady.”

“Hm.” Rora had a sudden urge to communicate, somehow, just how happy she was, happy in a way she’d never known before. But she couldn’t find the words. “He’s very dear to me.”

Wynne’s brows furrowed, and she set her own mug aside.

“I know this is all very new,” she said slowly. “But I wonder if you’ve thought about where it’s going?”

“I don’t know,” Rora said. “But, we’re happy. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Wynne said. “But I want you to think carefully about this, Rora. Love is ultimately selfish, and neither of your lives are quite your own. I wouldn’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

“We would never hurt each other.”

“Not intentionally, no,” said Wynne. “But you are both Grey Wardens. Alistair is the son of a king, and you are a mage.”

“We don’t care about any of that.”

“My point is that you have responsibilities that supersede your own desires. At some point, one or both of you may be forced to choose between the other and the fate of the world.”

“I don’t want to make that choice.”

“I hope you won’t have to,” Wynne said. “But nothing is certain in these times. I want you to be aware of this.”

Rora’s eyes stung. She stood up.

“I’ll think about what you said. Good night, Wynne.”

She turned and hurried off toward the woods, and Alistair. She wiped her eyes, hoping they wouldn’t be too red when she got there.

As the party neared the Frostbacks over the next few days, the lush green of the Hinterlands gave way to steeper, rockier terrain. The mountains, no more than a distant blur for so long, loomed before them. When they were just a day or two from Haven, they began to see snow on the ground. Everyone changed into their warmest garments, even Morrigan. Only Sten stayed as he was, not seeming to notice the cold at all.

Rora, who had never seen snow before, was in awe. One could see the white-peaked Frostbacks from the few windows in the Circle tower but she had no idea it was so beautiful up close. It was enough to make her forget what Wynne had said all those days ago. Almost.

She looked up at Alistair, walking with her hand in hand as he usually did these days. Now that everyone knew about them there was no need to hide their affection when they weren’t alone. He noticed her watching him and smiled. She smiled back, but her stomach squeezed in a way it often had over the last few days. Even when they were together it was like he was about to vanish.

_Thwack!_ A snowball struck the side of Alistair’s head. He staggered then spun to face a grinning Zevran.

“What in the Maker’s name was that for?!”

“A warrior ought to pay attention to his surroundings,” Zevran said. “It is not my fault you had your mind on other things.”

Alistair scooped up a handful of snow. “If you think you’re going to get away with that, you have another thing coming.”

He hurled the snowball. Zevran dodged.

The next snowball hit Alistair square in the chest. He made a noise of outrage and took off after Zevran, trying to bend down for more ammunition at the same time. A little ways off, Leo barked enthusiastically, Wynne shouted out encouragement and instructions, and Sten studied the scene intently. Morrigan, sitting on a rock, bore a sour expression, but watched all the same.

“You’d think they were little boys, the way they behave sometimes.” At some point during the fight, Leliana had come to stand next to Rora.

“As long as they’re enjoying themselves…” Rora said doubtfully.

She watched as three snowballs struck Alistair in the face one after the other, and then as Zevran easily dodged Alistair’s next several volleys. Despite this, she caught a faint smile on Alistair’s face as he darted through the snow. She was overcome with fondness, but it was mixed with the familiar sadness of the last few days.

“Trouble in paradise?” Leliana said suddenly.

“Sorry?” Rora said, glancing over.

“A few days ago you had a… glow… about you, but it’s dimmed. Did something happen?”

Rora twisted a lock of hair around her finger. Leliana was too perceptive for her own good sometimes.

“No. I mean…” She sighed. “Leliana, do you think me and Alistair are right for each other?”

Leliana laughed in surprise. “What makes you think otherwise?”

“Nothing,” Rora said. “It’s just that he’s not… like me.”

Self-consciously, she covered one of her long ears with her hand.

“Oh, Rora,” Leliana said. She reached for Rora’s hands, turning her friend to face her so she could look her in the eyes. “Alistair doesn’t care about any of that.”

Rora stared at the ground. “He doesn’t now, but…”

“He won’t start.” Leliana shook Rora’s clasped hands for emphasis. “He may technically be a noble, but he wasn’t raised that way, seeing himself as better than others. Believe me, that’s important.”

Rora nodded. Her anxiety lessened, but she wasn’t fully convinced. Even if Alistair didn’t want to leave her, he might still have to someday. Wynne had implied as much.

At that moment, Alistair ran over to them, breathing hard. He bent double, trying to catch his breath.

“How am I doing?” he said.

His face was bright and flushed from the exercise, and he looked so happy, so adoring. Again, some of the anxiety fell away. Rora took hold of his shoulders, encouraging him to stand up straight.

“You’re doing great.” She frowned, noticing how wet his sleeves were. “Your offense could use work.”

He grinned sheepishly down at her. But then Zevran ran over, interrupting them.

“I have you now, my warrior friend.”

He launched a snowball at the back of Alistair’s head. But this time, Rora tugged Alistair down into a crouch at just the right moment. The snowball sailed over their heads and struck Morrigan in the face.

Everyone froze. Morrigan got to her feet, snow dripping from her hair and murder in her eyes. She rolled up the sleeves of her warm cloak and raised her staff. Zevran began backing away, hands up.

“Morrigan, my dear…”

She gave cry of fury and began launching fireballs in Zevran’s direction. He took off running, her in pursuit. Rora and Alistair locked eyes and burst into helpless laughter.

Rora’s worries about Alistair and what Wynne had said faded into the background. They still arose from time to time, particularly when she was alone. But between Haven and the Temple of Sacred Ashes there was too much else to focus on, and she and Alistair needed each other too much.

It started their first night after Haven, camped just inside one of the ruins outside the temple. The others, including the newly found Genitivii, had gone to sleep. As they often did, Alistair and Rora sat together by the fire long after. Rora sat with her back against Alistair’s torso, his legs tented on either side of her, and the blanket wrapped around both of them. Rora tried hard to ignore the mental images of the citizens of Haven attacking them and then being cut down, and the dragon she knew was just outside. They distracted each other by pointing out stars through a gap in the roof and pretending to fight over who got the biggest share of the blanket. Finally, though, it was too late to stay up any longer.

“We’d best turn in,” Alistair said. His chin was resting on top of her head. “We want to be fresh for tomorrow.”

Rora nodded, but neither of them moved. The dragon flew overhead again, its wings creating a loud rush of air. It roared. Without meaning to, Rora stiffened with fear. Alistair wrapped his arms more tightly around her. Even as the noises faded, they stayed where they were, wary.

“Can I…” She cleared her throat. “Could I come to your tent? Just for a little bit?”

Alistair paused, but then he nodded.

They hurried there, as if the dragon was going to chase after them. Alistair’s tent was identical to Rora’s, though it looked much smaller with Alistair inside.

“Home, such as it is,” he said, spreading his arms. “I suppose I’ll just… get ready?”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll leave whenever you want.”

She wedged herself into a corner of the tent, legs pulled up to her chest. Alistair stumbled around, smoothing out his bedroll and gathering his things. He reached for the fittings of his armor, and then glanced over at her. Rora realized what the problem was.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll turn around.”

He looked relieved. “Thanks.”

She faced the tent wall, still highly aware that Alistair was taking off his armor behind her. When he said it was all right to look, she turned around. He was wearing a loose shirt and breeches, and her eyes were drawn to the top opening of his shirt, where she could see a plume of chest hair. She swallowed.

“Well,” he said. “Time for bed, I suppose.”

He made as if to get inside his bedroll, then hesitated.

“I’ll go,” she said, stirring. The thought of going back out into the dark and then to her own lonely tent wasn’t a pleasant one, but she would do whatever made him comfortable.

Alistair frowned, though, then said: “Why don’t you stay? Just as long as you feel like it.”

_All night,_ Rora thought, still dreading the thought of her tent. But she said, “All right. For a bit.”

She slipped into the bedroll beside him. They lay there awkwardly, back to back. Alistair seemed to be doing his best to compress all 6 feet of himself into one corner. Rora, too, hugged herself, painfully aware of how close he was. Her heart raced and her face burned. She took several deep breaths, then cleared her throat.

“Um,” she finally said.

She felt him start. “Y-yes?”

Before she could talk herself out of it, Rora rolled over and moved nearer. She folded herself against him, burying her face in his chest.

Alistair seemed to hold his breath, didn’t move. But then he noticeably relaxed. He settled against her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He rested his chin on top of her hair.

“Good night,” he whispered.

Rora didn’t remember falling asleep. When she next opened her eyes she was curled between Alistair and Leo, who must have snuck in during the night. Morning sunlight shone through the walls.

She managed to depart Alistair’s tent with none of their party the wiser. On their way to the temple, the only indication that anything had changed came in the way they walked even closer to each other on the road, and how they flinched less as the dragon flew overhead.

This day, the day of the gauntlet, was no easier than the last. If anything it was worse. They camped in the same spot that night, and once again the two of them sat up later than the others. They barely talked this time. Finally, when it was getting to be that time of night, they looked at each other.

“Why don’t you stay over again?” Alistair said.

Rora nodded, too grateful to say anything else.

In the tent, Rora borrowed Alistair’s shirt, more like a dress on her, and climbed into the bedroll with him. She shivered a little. Part of it the cold, part of it her memories, part of it his proximity. Alistair reached for her, rubbing her shoulders.

“Are you all right?” he said.

She rolled over so they were face to face, her head propped up on her hand. His face was inches away.

“Not really,” she said. “How about you?”

“About the same.”

They looked at each other, and unbidden came to Rora the one good thing that had happened that day. That moment when they crossed the threshold toward the urn of sacred ashes, when Rora had caught a glimpse of him naked. She’d quickly looked away, but she was surprised she hadn’t failed the test on the basis of unholy thoughts.

Perhaps he was thinking the same thing because the color rose in his cheeks while he was looking at her. Then, both of them leaned in.

They had never kissed like this before. In just his shirt she could truly _feel_ him, his warmth and the places where their bodies touched. Lying together there was a weightlessness, like she was floating with nothing to support her but his arms. And all the while they both seemed to be doing their best to press themselves even closer together, impossible as that seemed. Alistair’s hand moved down her thigh, unsureness in his touch, but she gasped at the feel of his hand on her bare skin. She reached beneath the collar of his shirt, burying her fingers in the hair she’d been admiring last night. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and kissed her harder.

It didn’t go any farther than that. Alistair pulled away, and they laughed nervously before Rora snuggled back against him, closing her eyes. Once again, she didn’t remember falling asleep.

For the rest of the journey between Haven and Redcliffe, they spent every night like this. Sleeping in the same tent inevitably earned them teasing as the others began to catch on, but Rora didn’t care. By unspoken agreement they didn’t do much besides kiss, and she was glad to have someone with her to face the nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

Days later they arrived back at Redcliffe. After everything they had been through, it was a shock how smoothly reviving the Arl went. Just hours after administering the ashes they received a summons inviting them to dine with Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan that evening.

“This is odd,” Rora said, studying the note she had been handed by the servant. “It says that just Alistair and I are invited.”

The party was waiting in one of the castle’s sitting rooms. Morrigan, thumbing through a small shelf of books with a distasteful expression, shrugged.

“Who would want to dine with a pair of pompous noblemen anyway?”

“Agreed, dear Morrigan,” said Zevran. He was seated at the foot of the wall, wiping off the new leather boots Rora had found for him with a handkerchief. “It shows poor taste not to invite the life of the party.”

“I think we should be congratulating Rora rather than insulting the Arl,” Leliana said. “She’s the hero of the hour. That must be why she was invited.”

“Her and me,” Alistair said, frowning. “Why not the rest of you? We all helped.”

“You were raised here,” Leliana pointed out. “Perhaps he wants to catch up.”

Alistair looked doubtful. Rora glanced at Wynne, and the older woman was unusually quiet, eyes fixed on the novel she had pulled off the shelf.

The dinner started off normally enough, with the Eamon and Teagan thanking them for their help. Rora couldn’t get over how odd it was to see the arl up and about. Though his face was drawn and he didn’t eat as much as the rest of them, he appeared mostly recovered. He spent the meal asking Rora about herself, asking them both for details about the Temple of Sacred Ashes and all that had happened while he was ill. Teagan, charming as always, made jokes to set everyone at ease. Rora was particularly grateful on Alistair’s behalf. From the moment they had arrived, he had been stiff and quiet, but Teagan’s quips and questions drew out the occasional smile.

As they neared the end of the meal, Rora felt more relaxed. But then the talk turned to Loghain and what they could do about him.

“What we need,” the arl said, “is someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain’s daughter the queen.”

Alistair once more froze in his seat and Rora’s stomach lurched. But Teagan voiced her thoughts first.

“Surely you’re not referring to Alistair, brother?”

The arl’s face was grave.

“I would not propose such a thing if there were any alternative,” he said. “But the unthinkable has occurred.”

Alistair fidgeted next to Rora and muttered just for her benefit: “You’d think I wasn’t sitting right here.”

She flexed her fingers, wanting to take his hand, but she knew she couldn’t do so in front of Teagan and Eamon. Instead she cleared her throat.

“Do you think putting Alistair forward is the best idea?” she said. “Couldn’t you or Bann Teagan become king?”

She looked from one to the other, but the arl shook his head.

“Alistair’s claim to the throne is by blood, far stronger than mine or Teagan’s. If we tried we would solve nothing.”

“And what about me?” Alistair said, voice sharp. “Does anyone care what I want?”

“You have a responsibility, Alistair,” the arl said. He sounded tired. “Without you, I will be forced to support Loghain. Is that what you want?”

“I… but…” Alistair sighed and shrank. “No, my lord.”

Rora looked from him to Eamon, not sure what to say.

“I’ve decided to call for a Landsmeet,” the arl said. “There, Fereldan will decide who shall rule, one way or another.” He looked at Rora, gaze shrewd. “What say you to that, Ser Surana?”

“You’re asking me?” Rora said.

“You’ve proven yourself a reliable leader,” Eamon said. “What’s more, you saved my family. We wouldn’t want to move forward without your blessing.”

Rora swallowed. She wanted to make herself small. _Don’t make me decide,_ she thought.

“I…” she looked at Alistair, then back to the arl. “It seems worth a try.”

_Just holding the Landsmeet is no guarantee of Alistair becoming king,_ she told herself. _There could be a better candidate. I have no idea who, but…_

“Good,” the arl said. “Then I will send out the call.”

The conversation went on, plans and strategies that Rora only half listened to. Finally, the meal was over and they could excuse themselves. Rora was eager to talk to Alistair alone, to make some sort of plan. But as they were getting up, the arl stopped them.

“Wait a moment, Alistair,” he said. “I would like a word with you. Alone.”

Alistair twisted his mouth into a sarcastic smile and sat back down. As Rora left the hall, she once again had the sense he was moving beyond her reach.

Rora waited for Alistair in the castle library. She sat curled in a big armchair, trying to read a book she had pulled off the shelf. All she could think about was what Eamon might be saying to Alistair right now, and what he’d said in her presence. Alistair might really have to become king.

At last, the door creaked open, and Alistair tossed himself into the chair across from her, his long legs splayed in front of him. Rora set her book down.

“What did he say?”

He sighed. “Nothing much. It was basically a lecture. Duty, royal blood, blah, blah, blah.”

Rora curled her legs more tightly under herself. “And what did _you_ say?”

He shrugged. “What _could_ I say? They don’t care what I think.”

“I do.”

Alistair gazed at her sadly.

“I’m not sure it matters,” he said. “You heard what they said. If I don’t become king, he’ll have to support Loghain. Or Anora, which amounts to the same thing.”

“There must be another way.”

Alistair shook his head, eyes on the floor.

_He’s just going to let it happen,_ she thought, panicking. _He’s not even going to fight them._

“We need to come up with someone better,” she said. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Better.” Alistair repeated. “Right.”

Rora frowned. Alistair was hunched over in his chair, eyes narrowed. Then she realized. He was angry, and not just with the arl.

“Alistair,” she said. “You know I don’t mean—”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I understand. I’m nobody’s first choice in all of this.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Rora said. “Wouldn’t it make sense to find someone who _wants_ to be king?”

“Of course,” Alistair said. He rose to his feet. “I just wish you had asked how I felt about it.”

“Alistair—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He left the room, not looking back once. Rora sank down in the chair and buried her face in her hands.

Rora didn’t join Alistair in his room that night. When she considered it, she was unable to bear the frustration and shame. Part of her hoped he would come to her, but he didn’t.

The next day the party left Redcliffe. Alistair did not join her at breakfast, nor did he walk with her as they made their way out of Redcliffe town and back into the Hinterlands. Alistair spent the morning talking with Wynne. Rora, who couldn’t bear the thought of Wynne saying “I told you so,” avoided them and kept close to Leliana instead.

Rora hoped things would change as the day went on, that maybe he would forget his annoyance with her. But he continued to avoid her. Not that she approached him either. Whenever she thought of doing so, her cheeks burned at the memory of his disappointment back in the library.

But she was angry as well. Alistair always said he didn’t want to be king, and now he was upset with her for remembering? She didn’t want to apologize. She may have been a mage, but she wasn’t a mind reader. And if he did want to be king… that was even worse.

Rora and Alistair’s standstill continued into the next day. Conflicted as she was, she already missed his jokes, his hand in hers, his arms wrapped around her at night. Unable to help it, she caught herself shooting longing looks at him all day.

The rift between them must have been more obvious than she thought. Zevran, who had come to walk beside her, looked from her, to Alistair, then back. He clucked his tongue.

“I do not mean to pry, my dear Rora,” Zevran said. “But have you and Alistair talked about what is troubling you?”

Rora started. “Why would you think something’s troubling us?”

“Oh, you need not give me details, much as I would enjoy them,” he said. “Just take it from me as a friend: No good comes from silence. Resentments only grow that way, even between the closest of companions.”

Sadness flashed across his face but was quickly replaced by his usual grin.

“I suppose you’re right,” Rora said. She sighed. “Thanks, Zev. You’re a good friend.”

He smiled, and once again there was a hint of sadness there. “I try to be.”

Rora planned to head Alistair off that evening before he could retire to his tent. But he must have had the same idea. As she turned the corner she walked right into him. Practically bumped into him, in fact.

She stopped, frozen, looking up into his face for the first time in days. His eyes were wide, holding as much surprise as hers.

“Alistair,” she said. “I—”

“Rora—”

Rora started again.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“The thing is—”

They both stopped talking, and then they laughed, nervous. Her gaze was drawn back to him, and her heart flooded as she took in all the details of his face—his strong jaw, his warm brown eyes, the distinctive nose. It might have been weeks since she looked at him, not just a couple days. She had to force herself to focus on what she needed to say.

“I’m sorry for what happened at the castle,” she said in a rush. “I shouldn’t have spoken for you like that.”

Alistair shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t clear about what I wanted. That isn’t your fault.”

He was gazing back at her, brows furrowed. He appeared distressed in a way that made her want to go to him and hold him close. But there was more to deal with.

“What _do_ you want, Alistair?” Rora said. “The last time we talked about this, you didn’t seem interested in ruling.”

“I wasn’t,” Alistair said. “I’m not sure I am now. It’s just… I’ve been thinking lately, why should people like Loghain and Anora get to be in charge? Who’s going to speak up for those who need protection?” He shrugged. “I guess some of the things Eamon said got to me.”

Rora nodded, even as her stomach twisted. “That makes sense.” She hesitated, only a moment, then stepped forward. She took his hands. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll support you.”

He smiled. Rora smiled back, but her eyes stung.

“It’s been… awful not talking,” she said.

“Miserable,” Alistair replied. He squeezed her hands. His palms were damp, and he looked down at the ground, biting his lip.

“What’s wrong?” Rora said.

He heaved a sigh. He withdrew his hands from hers and stepped back, arms crossed over his chest.

“There’s something else,” he said. “Something I wanted to… ask you.”

Rora’s heart thudded. Was this it? The moment she had dreaded?

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“I want to…” He swallowed, took a breath and then started again. “I want to spend the night with you. Here. In camp.”

Rora blinked.

“I know this is sudden,” he continued, “but… I’ve been thinking about everything, and I can’t imagine being without you. Not ever.” He let a breath out, like he’d been holding it the whole time. “What do you think?”

Rora didn’t answer, just looking at Alistair in amazement, at his pleading expression and the tenderness in his eyes. She felt heat rise in her. He didn’t want to be without her. He wanted to stay with her.

“I’m sorry,” Alistair said. “I’ve probably offended you or—"

Rora leapt forward. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her and practically lifting her off the ground. She melted into him, body flush with heat.

After a moment he pulled away, breathing hard and still holding her up. He looked her in the eyes.

“If I’m not mistaken, that’s a yes?”

She laughed and pressed her temple to his. “What do you think, silly?”


End file.
